First time Potions
by Liz Jean Tonks
Summary: Harry's first lesson with Snape, in which he has troubles to use his quill and earns himself a detention.../ One-Shot / Not 100% Canon but not in harsh contradiction with Canon /Everyone's in character/ No pairings


Part of the **'Are you crazy enough to do it?'** Challenge

 _prompt: 687. (object) Quill_

I want to add that I was somehow inspired by a story I have read ages ago, 'Harry's first detention' by kbinnz. You should read it, it's great.

The text in italic letters are direct quotes from the books.

* * *

' _As for moonkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite._ '

Harry glared at the professor. How should he have been able to know that? Was he supposed to read through all of his books in advance? Not even McGonagall, who came across to him as a struict and demanding teacher would've expected that.

He glimpsed to his right, where Hermione Granger had finally put her hand down. Probably she had indeed read all of the books, and learnt by heart. ' _Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?'_ Harry couldn't stand the loatheing eyes of Snape. If there had been a reason for the professor's dislike on him, fine. But he couldn't help thinking Snape really did _loath_ him, for no reason at all, he had only just met the man.

He wondered whether even the Dursleys had looked at him in such a way.

Around him, people were staring to scribble over their parchment. Knowing Snape's eyes still rested on him, Harry hastened to take his stuff out.

 _'And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheak, Potter.'_ Harry put his quill down, not able to believe his ears. Of course, McGonagall had said points could be knocked off for disbehaviour, but if this was already counting as disbehaviour he didn't want to find out what Snape would do if he actually broke the rules.

'Potter, why aren't you writing?', Snape snarled. 'I gather, not being able to answer my questions correctly you would at least be eager to get it right now? If you're not interested in attending my classes, there is the door. I will not spend my time on people too arrogant to believe they have to study hard for good results.'

'I was merely-,' Harry started, but his teacher cut him short.

'We don't have all day, Potter. You can't expect me to pay attention to noone but you, even if that's what your used to.' With those words, he turned around to his desk. Harry stared after him, but as Ron poked him, he hastened to start writing.

If it hadn't been for the quill, maybe he'd been able to write down everything Snape said within minutes, but with not being used to write with old-fashioned quill and ink, it seemed to take ages to write one single word. Apart from the fact it took way longer then with a regular pen, his handwriting was literally horrible. He glimpsed at Ron, who seemed to have no problems; nor had Hermione. While looking around, he noticed he was way behind everyone else, and while hastening to catch up, a stain of ink dropped on the parchment.

'Damned,' he cursed quietly, but of course,with everyone silent apart from the scratching of quills, his voice seemed to echo through the entire room. Snape raised his gaze, and started patrolling through the classroom. Harry hurried to write faster; of course, Snape stopped at his place.

'Potter,' he said quietly, but loud enough for everyone to hear, 'could you repeat what I have asked you to do?'

Harry stared at him. 'Erm,' he said. 'You were asking us to write down what you have said, sir.'

'Precisely.' He turned to Draco's desk, and took his parchement, holding it for everyone to see.

'This,' he said coolly, 'is an exact summerize of what I told you.' He put it down again, and took Harry's parchement. 'This,' he said, his voice even colder, 'is an insult to every piece of parchement.' He returned the paper to Harry. 'Tell me,' he said, 'have you ever learned how to write or do you find it funny playing the illiterate?'

Harry stared at him. 'I didn't...' Snape rose an eyebrow. '5 points from Gryffindor, and if you are not able to show me a clean copy after the lesson, it will be 15.

'Now, those of you who have managed to use the quill effectivelly on your parchement, divide into pairs of two. We will start by mixing a quite simple potion to cure boils.' Harry barely listened to him; he was full of anger. Ron looked at him.

'Cheer up,' he said quietly, 'I think the brewing will be quite fun; we have never done something like that before, he can't expect us to be perfect in our first attempt...'

However, he was wrong. Harry, half listening to the professor's explanation and half busy with copying from Ron, tried for a better hand-writing this time, but it really wasn't as easy as you might think it to be, to write with a quill, if you were used to a pen. As he was half satisfied with his work, Ron had already put all the ingredients on the table. Harry quickly laid down the quill and looked at the instructions on the board as he saw Snape approaching.

'Now,' Ron said, frowing, 'it says we shall crush the snake fangs by using a mortar – Harry, could you hand me six of them?'

Together, they managed to crush them statisfying, but it was not quite a 'fine powder' as it said on the board, rather a rough mess. 'D'you think it's fine enough?,' Ron asked, eyeing there fangs uncertain.

'Yeah, I guess,' Harry said, watching the others and noticing their powder did not look any better. They followed the rest of the instructions more or less explicit; they sounded easy when you read them, but actually following them correctly was way harder. In the end, they received a potion that did not seem to fit entirely to what Snape had explained how it should look like.

Anyway, they were distracted by the exploding cauldron just next to them; Harry jumped by the loud sound Neville and Seamus' cauldron had made. As Snape turned around, just having praised Malfoy's potion, Harry noticed dread on Neville's face; _he moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs._

After lecturing Neville, Snape suddenly turned to Harry again. ' _You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he did it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor._ 7 points in the first lesson... I believe that's a record.'

Harry stared at him. He couldn't believe how much Snape hated him. There was absolutely no reason; even if he prefered his own house all the time, he seemed to dislike on Harry the most.

'Now,' Snape said, 'all of you will bottle a little amount of potion in the small bottles on your desks, for me to examine them this evening.' Everyone started filling their results into the bottles and started to talk about the lesson.

'Silence', Snape said sharply, and went to Harry's desk. 'Potter, show me your answers on the questions you have not been able to answer earlier.'

Harry bit his lip. He could tell that the professor wouldn't like his work even it it had been as clean as Draco's. He took out his parchement. Seeing it with Snape's eyes he noticed there were still marks of ink all over his text, and his writing surely wasn't what Snape would call 'clean.' Indeed, his teacher did not look satisfied. His lips curled.

'Too bad,' he snarled, 'seems like Gryffindor has lost 17 points already.'

'I did my best I could with this quill,' Harry said, not bothering to keep his voice calm, 'mind you, it's me who has to read it, as long as I am fine with it...'

Snape glared at him. 'That's 20 points you've lost for your house in a single lesson, Potter,' he said calmly. 'You should be aware that I will not tolerate insolence of any sort. You may be know as the boy who lived, but that doesn't give you the right to pretend everyone else is beneath you.'

He turned to his desk. Harry stood up, ignoring Ron's hand that tried to pull him down again.

'What's your problem?' He crossed his arm before his chest. 'It's not my fault I can't handle this quill, it's not my fault if I haven't learnt the books by heart during the summer, maybe you should try and teach us something before asking questions?'

Snape's eyes rested on Harry, who stared back. The entire room had turned silent.

'Stay after class, Potter,' Snape said coldly, and returned to his desk.

The others slowly began to move again, continuing to bring Snape their potions. Harry sat on his chair, angry.

Hermione looked at him, annoyed. 'You had to push it, hadn't you?,' she asked quietly before leaving the room. The other Gryffindors looked at him both admiring and shirty for him having lost them points. Ron gave him a quick smile and muttered, 'see you later' as he left the room. Now it was only Snape and Harry left. Harry hadn't planned to bother to come forward to his professor but his black eyes looked at him so coldly he didn't dare to stay in his seat.

Nevertheless, he kept his arms crossed.

'Now, Potter,' Snape spat viciously, 'that'll be detention, then, won't it? I want you here this evening, seven o'clock, and until then you will write a presiced summary of today's lesson, both the theoratical and the practical part. Maybe you were confident rules were made for anyone but you, but if you are here for your personal entertainement, I will have you expelled even before you could catch up with the numbers of detentions your dear father has served... Although, I have to say, you're doing a good job... Being on detention at the first day is something not even James Potter would have achieved.'

Harry stared at Snape. Beside the injustice of the detention, he couldn't believe Snape had known his father... and how he talked about him, just with the loathing in his voice how he talked to Harry... Hadn't Hagrid told him how great his parents had been? Well, he had noticed Snape was noone he liked ever since he had first spoken to him, but yet..

However, he didn't dare to backtalk again, it might just lose him more points, and everyone was angry at him as it was.

So he would be seeing Snape again this very evening. Plus, he had to write an entire essay without having figured out how to use his quill.

It was now he could definitely tell their loathing was mutual.


End file.
